Fallen ~•A Good Omens Fanfiction •~

Chapter 12: French crepes

Chapter 12: French crepes
By Aziraphale

  Crowley had told me to wait for him in this café, and I was there at the time he’d given, waiting for him. And of course, he was late. I guess I could order while waiting, couldn't I?
  ‘Bonjour!’ I said.
  ‘Bonjour, monsieur! Que souhaitez-vous commander?’ (Hello, sir! What would you like to order?)
  I didn't know that much of the French language, but I tried my best.
  ‘Je peux avoir des crêpes, s’il vous plaît?’ (Can I have some crepes, please?)
  ‘Bien sûr, combien?’ (Sure, how many?)
  There stopped my understanding of this foreign language. I didn't quite get what the waitress had said. So, as any good foreigner, I asked:
  ‘Sorry, what did you say?’
  And this time, it was she who didn't understand a word.
  ‘Comment?’ (What?)
  ‘Whatcha doing, Angel?’ asked a familiar voice as a hand was put on my shoulder.
  ‘Crowley! I… well, I am trying to order crepes.’
  ‘Yeah, I can see that,’ he said ironically.
  I hadn’t seen him in two years, since we saved Joan of Arc from the fire. And if I must be sincere, I had longed to see him.
  ‘May I help you?’ he asked. ‘I know someone who might be able to speak both French and English.’
  ‘That would be lovely, yes,’ I answered.
  ‘Hey, François!’

***

  I finished my first crepe and looked up at Crowley, who was staring at me. I never even wondered why he’d do that when I'm eating.
  ‘So, how have you been doing?’ I started.
  ‘As fine as I can be,’ he answered. ‘I heard you went to England ?’
  ‘Oh, indeed I have,’ I smiled, starting a second crepe. ‘It’s really good there. We should go there together! I mean, if you like.’
  The demon grinned. I think he wanted me to ask him rather than proposing to come with me. I can't blame him for that, it's always been his personality.
  ‘Really?’ he asked.
  ‘Well, there are lots of things to do,’ I explained. ‘And also… I think it would be better if you are with me.’
  He stayed silent, but I knew he would accept. If he hadn't planned to at first, that final excuse had convinced him. I looked at my plate, my crepe still half-eaten, but I wasn't hungry anymore. I managed to finish it and asked him:
  ‘So, what do you want to do now, my dear?’
  ‘What about London?’

***

  ‘No, Angel! We're not going back to France just because you want some damn crepes!’
  ‘But it’s been years!’ I complained. ‘And I’d also like some brioche…’
  ‘And why not some croissants too?!’ said Crowley, starting to get annoyed.
  But, unfortunately, I didn't get the irony in his voice. I have never been so good at it, though I did start to understand better.
  ‘Oh, that's a lovely idea!’ I reacted in delight.
  ‘It wasn’t… Oh, whatever.’
  I looked at him with begging eyes.
  ‘Don’t.’ he warned me.
  ‘Please, Crowley…’
  He tried to say no, but just couldn't, and I knew it perfectly. As he sometimes said, I could occasionally be a little bit mischievous.
  ‘Ngk. Alright. You're going to have those stupid crepes.’
  ‘Thank you, my dear.’

––––––––––––––––––––––––

I’m sorry, it's awfully short but I had literally no idea what to put in, so let’s just call it a transition chapter, ok?

And at least I managed to bring it to 560 words…